I was surprised. I shouldn’t have been. But I was.
When I first saw the photo of Kim Kardashian’s naked derrière — glistening from what I could only hope was baby oil — gracing the cover of Paper Magazine, I admit that I thought it was fake. It was so big.
How could it be that big?
The proportions were cartoonish and I assumed that someone, most likely while high, had gotten crazy with Photoshop and put Kim’s head on a photo of a naked model and then blew the backside up like a balloon. Okay, two balloons.
I also momentarily had the preposterous notion that the Kim Kardashian I knew would never pose for such a crass photo. That the woman who leaked her own sex video would have higher standards for herself. But to my amazement, it turned out that the photo was real.
I learned this from the wall-to-wall Kim Kardashian coverage — I call it Kimcuv for short – that bombarded me at every turn.
Kim Kardashian – I Exist Therefore I Exist
Typical of the coverage was an article from ABC News (yes, the news department) entitled “Why Kim Kardashian Decided to Show Full-Frontal Nudity.”
My mind raced with potential answers to that provocative question.
Was it to raise awareness of the plight of the homeless? Nah, probably not.
Perhaps to bring attention to the atrocities being committed by ISIS in the Middle East right now? Yeah, pretty sure that wasn’t it.
Maybe to self-aggrandize and push some sort of product? I felt I was getting warmer, but ultimately it turned out I was wrong.
Mickey Boardman, Paper’s editor, explained that it was Kardashian’s idea to “break the Internet.”
He continued, “And it was her idea to take off her clothes and show more than her butt. But we didn’t say, ‘Let’s do a cover with your butt hanging out.’ She said she was willing to take her clothes off and one thing led to another.”
That’s the type of answer I should have expected; vapid, uninspired, and frankly, lazy.
In this same article I not only learned that, yes, it was in fact oil on her butt, but also, how it got there.
“It was the makeup artist,” who put the oil on, Boardman said. “It was someone who she works with a lot so she felt comfortable.”
I’m not sure there is any world that exists in which I ever get to the point of feeling comfortable when a makeup artist smears oil on my ass.
In another article I was told that the photos from the spread were actually not crass, but art. This is because they were taken by legendary French photographer Jean-Paul Goude. Yes, the Jean-Paul Goude.
As if having Francis Ford Coppola behind the camera would have made Kim and Ray J’s video cinema verité.
Turn out the Lights and for the Love of God Let It Be over
Though making fun of the Kardashians has become national pastime, there’s no sport in it anymore. It’s become too easy. Too hacky. Anyone with any self-worth should feel dirty taking part in the activity. In fact after this I’ll be crying in the shower as I scrub myself down with a wire brush.
I don’t begrudge Kim her fame. Nor her fortune. I just don’t want to see or hear about her anymore. Why is it that we can land a spaceship on a comet, but we can’t create a content filter for those of us who wish to remove the Kardashians from our lives? What good is technology anyway?
My hope is that the world’s fascination with Kim Kardashian has peaked. In the stock market, no matter how hot a stock is or how long its run has lasted, at some point it becomes so saturated with buyers that there is nobody else left to buy it. It’s then that a top is formed and the stock comes crashing back to earth.
The media frenzy around #BreakTheInternet feels like we are reaching a saturation point. That there is nobody left to buy into the Kim Kardashian saga. I mean, where does she go from here? What else could she possibly do to hold our attention?
Don’t answer that, please!
I can hope though, given that fact that the likes of Nicole Ritchie and Kim’s former BFF Paris Hilton — herself a veteran of the leaked sex tape — have thankfully drifted into semi-obscurity. At least enough so that for all intents and purposes they don’t exist in my life anymore.